


Say Something

by MyShipsWontSail



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-23
Updated: 2017-04-23
Packaged: 2018-10-23 01:02:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10708881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyShipsWontSail/pseuds/MyShipsWontSail
Summary: A series of snippets that demanded to be written after I listened to Say Something by A Great Big World





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, finally gather up enough courage to put one of my fanfics out there. I write all the time, but I'm crap at finishing. This one however has a clear end in my mind. And thus, can be shared.  
> Enjoy!

Say something, I'm giving up on you    
I'll be the one, if you want me to    
Anywhere, I would've followed you    
Say something, I'm giving up on you

 

She had found him thanks to the Marauder’s Map. Although, truth be told, she hadn’t exactly needed it. He had been spending more and more time up in the astronomy tower, alternating between looking around space with hatred and staring moodily up at the sky. She crept quietly up the stairs to find him engaging in the latter, his shoulder heaving as he took shallow, unsteady breaths. She reached a hand out towards him before she even realised it and the only thing that kept her from touching him was their distance. He leaned over the rail of the tower, staring out into the darkness as if it held an untold secret. Taking a deep breath, Hermione stepped towards him, but his shoulders stiffened at the sound of her feet on the floor.   
“Don’t.” His voice was soft, but hard and it surprised her how much that one word hurt her. Irritation swelled within her as she froze, her jaw tightening. She was only trying to help, for goodness sake! Must he always be such a git?   
“Malfoy, if you would just listen-.”   
“No.” He cut her off, spinning to face her. “Did you really think this could go somewhere? Elite Pureblood,” he gestured derisively at himself, “and the Wizarding World’s favourite muggle born?” A part of her swelled at the fact that, even angry, he wasn’t calling her a mudblood anymore. “That you, precious princess of the Golden Trio, could save me and make a difference? We were never meant to get along, let alone be anything more.” She was shaking her head before he had even finished, stubbornness and anger building at his words. He wouldn’t even try! After all they’d been through together, he was still a coward!  
“I could do it! I could change their minds about you!” Draco scoffed.   
“Ever the Gryffindor. Running headlong into things without even thinking. It’s a miracle you, Potty, and the Weasel are still alive, rushing into things like you do.” He sneered, but Hermione could see the sadness in his eyes. She took another step towards him.    
“Stop it, okay? Just stop.” Surprise flitted across his face, before he tamped it down and put on that blank mask of his. She scoffed, still moving towards him. He always resorted to insulting Harry and Ron when he got too close to anything resembling real feelings, hoping that the distraction would throw her off the scent. When she was an arms length away, she stopped, extending her hand. Draco recoiled, pressing his back to the rail as though touching her would somehow undo him.   
“Get away from me.”   
“Just let me help you.”   
“You don’t understand!” He was yelling now, his voice echoing in the tower. “You don’t know what I have to do. What I’ve already done!” How could he touch her? Knowing what now stained the flesh of his left arm, how could he ever consider himself worthy of lying even one finger on her? She looked at him with eyes full of compassion. Not pity, but genuine compassion. She cared. About someone as utterly worthless as him. And that made it all the more clear to him that he could never be with her. How could he ever taint something so pure? So beautiful? More to the point, what if the Dark Lord found out? What if his mental shields failed? His family was already a powerful weakness. He couldn't bear the thought of anyone being able to use her against him. He would be ruined in every sense of the word. He would do whatever it took to keep her safe, kill whoever he was sent after. He would be a slave to the Dark Lord’s whims. And no amount of good behaviour would ever guarantee her safety. Hell, the noseless arsehole would probably kill her just to spite him  _ and _ Potter. He sighed, coming once again to the only possible conclusion. Reaching out, he pulled Hermione against him, breathing in the scent of her hair as he wrapped his arms around her. She hugged him back fiercely, pouring all of her passion into the embrace and trying desperately to ignore the fact that it felt like a goodbye. Just as quickly as it began, it was over, Draco slipping out of her hold and moving towards the stairs in three, long strides. Hermione’s body felt cold where he had been pressed against her. She knew he had done terrible things. You had to in order to be branded a Death Eater. She knew he had some horrible assignment looming over his head. And, rather pridefully, she had thought she could change his mind. That maybe what was building between them would be enough to sway him to the right side of the war. It hurt to finally realise that it wasn’t enough. That  _ she _ wasn’t enough.    
“I know I can help you. If you would just talk to me.”   
“Being a swot isn’t enough this time, Granger.”His voice was cold. “No one can help with this.”    
“The Order can hide you if that’s what you need. They can hide us!”   
“There is no us!” The statement felt like a slap and Hermione physically recoiled. Draco felt sick to his stomach as hurt shimmered in her eyes.   
“You aren’t this person. Don’t let them change you.”   
“You don’t know who I am. You never did.” He turned away then, moving toward the stairs.   
“Malfoy! Don’t do this.” He didn’t slow, didn’t even look her way. He couldn’t. If he did, he might actually listen to her. “Draco, please.” His given name on her lips gave him pause and he clenched his fists at his sides, nails digging into the flesh to keep from going to her.   
“Goodbye, Hermione.” As he disappeared down the stairs, Hermione felt her legs go out from beneath her. She knelt on the floor, her face in her hands, and finally broke. He was gone. His father had finally won, had turned his son into an unwilling monster. Her sobs chased Draco down the stairs. And he cried with her. 


	2. Chapter 2

And I am feeling so small    
It was over my head    
I know nothing at all    
And I will stumble and fall    
I'm still learning to love    
Just starting to crawl

 

Hermione stood with the crowd, only faintly aware that Ginny was beside her. Dumbledore was dead, Hagrid’s hut burned to the ground, Bill and countless others injured. And Draco had been involved. All that time spent with him, all those late night talks on Prefect patrols. He was right - she didn’t know him. As much as she thought she had understood, she had been wrong. He had Imperiused Madame Rosmerta, almost killed Katie Bell  _ and _ Ron. And all in an attempt to assassinate Professor Dumbledore. The one man who was unwaveringly on his side despite what he had already known about him. The greatest ally she had had in the fight to clear that stupid, pointy faced idiot’s name. How had things gone so wrong? She took a shuddering breath. Was this what caring about someone was supposed to get her?  She had half a mind to burn every single romance novel she owned, were she capable of bringing herself to defile books in such a way. They’d all lied to her, with their dashing bad boys and their patient heroines. Sold her tales of how even the worst of the worst could be conquered by love. Her eyes widened. Love. Well, wasn’t that just fantastic? Of all the people she could possibly have let herself fall for, it was that blond haired ferret. The realisation washed over her and left a chill in it’s wake. Sure, she’d noticed that she wasn’t as receptive to Ron’s advances as she had been before, but she had chalked it up to being overwhelmed. Staying on top of her grades, making sure Harry and Ron stayed on top of  _ their _ grades, training with DA. She was allowed to slack off a bit in the area of romance. However, standing there and thinking of Malfoy, she realised with a painful clarity that she’d never felt this sort of pain over Ron before. Ever since the astronomy tower, it had felt as though a part of her was missing. They had never been social in public, but those secret meetings were something she had started to look forward to. Slipping out of the Gryffindor common room to spend the dark hours of the morning together, holed up in the Room of Requirement with food stolen from the kitchens, or sometimes simply sleeping, wrapped in each other's arms. As everyone around her began raising their wands in salute, she stared at the body of Albus Dumbledore and joined them. Mourning her lost professor, his would be assassin, and her newly broken heart.

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Draco stood outside Malfoy Manor with Snape, trying to gather enough courage to go inside. It was done, his task complete. Although he technically hadn’t been the one to do it.    
“ _ Coward _ .” He scowled, but it was directed moreso at himself that anyone else. Albus Dumbledore was dead. The only other person aside from her who had had any faith in him. Hell, the man had still been trying to help him when he was standing there gathering the bollocks to kill him! He could admit to himself, now that the man was dead, that his previous murder attempts had been shoddy at best. Even though his parents life had hung in the balance, he had dragged his feet. A small part of him hoping that maybe the bushy haired swot would make good on her repeated proclamations and actually figure out a way to get them all out of this mess. In the end though, he had been right. No matter how smart she was, even she couldn’t save him. His feelings threatened to swallow him, to cover him in a darkness so deep that he doubted he would ever be able to come out of it again. He had precious few things to bouy him, the main ones being memories. His family, before all of this shite surrounded them, memories of her, and now a new small spark of light inside him. Although he’d helped the Death Eaters into Hogwarts, he’d done what he could for her. Using the Weasley twin’s Peruvian Instant Darkness under the guise of helping everyone slip in unnoticed, he had protected the Weasel and the Weaslette. He’d known they were skulking in the hall outside of the Room and he hoped that, if he ever saw her again, he could tell her. Maybe one day it would be enough.

“I suggest you rid yourself of such notions.” His godfather stared down at him. Snape’s face was carefully blank but Draco could see sympathy in his eyes. Taking a deep breath, he set his shoulder and pulled on the last vestiges of his strength before moving forward, feeling his family wards ripple over him. Quietly, in the far reaches of his mind, he hoped Potter would win.


End file.
